Voices' Warnings
by cantcatchme
Summary: “Everyone under this roof is dangerous, Charles, if properly motivated.”
1. Introduction

Voices' Warnings; Chapter 1: Stalker

                The helicopters strafed silently into position above the sanctuary.  Crowds of people on the sidewalks spread out as the S.W.A.T. team vans screeched to a halt, and were quickly forced behind barriers by impatient officers.  The rest of the force not marked down for crowd control was ordered inside.  Outside, the tension was growing, and some news vans had caught the sight of the S.W.A.T. team and followed them.

                The helicopters parted to allow the entry of a jet that the helicopter pilots were told to hope they would never see.  The Blackbird jet model was restricted to the utmost tiers of military forces, and only one had been sold to a civilian.

                The pedestrians, and those who had gotten out of their cars upon reaching the human road-block, turned as the thin, dark-colored, jet landed on the top of a school.

                The officers found nothing barring the door, not even the locks.  Inside, everything was perfectly serene.  The Reverend stood perfectly still, watching the choir, which was singing with professional quality.  Everyone in the audience was perfectly still; not even blinking.  The attendees seemed more like statues rather than humans, unflinching in their reverence of the choir.

                They remained unaffected by the presence of the officers.  When moved, the simply drifted back to the positions they were seemingly forced to fit into.  Even the prodding of a gun barrel to the temple didn't disturb an elderly woman who was respectively smiling to the holy sounds up front.

                "They're gone, sir," one of the team members said as the captain entered, "nothing's affecting them.  They're blind to us."

                "Any sign of them?"

                "We're looking through the crowd right-"

                "Over here," said one of the soldiers, pointing his gun at a girl in an aisle seat.  The officers quickly stepped beside and behind his partner, all aiming their guns at the streaked-haired girl, and the young man beside her.  "They're just like the others sir: not moving a muscle."

                Suddenly, the girl's eyes closed, and she lost her façade, causing her to laugh impishly.  Her partner moved too, turning and smiling at her.  "Sorry," she told him through the laughter.

                "I'm proud you lasted that long," he answered.  They were both oblivious to the officers and the firepower aimed at them.  The other people in the church did not lose their mysterious constitution when the two targets did.

                After exchanging a kiss, the two turned to face their armored enemies.  The officers immediately looked anywhere but the man's eyes, as they had been ordered.  "Ah'm sorry boys, there's no show here."

                "You two are under arrest, under the charges of kidnapping, larceny, public, trespassing, breaking and entering, and murder.  You have the right-"

                "Captain," the young man interrupted, "this is a house of God.  Not a place for activities such as this.  This is a place… to pray."  The entire S.W.A.T. team hit their knees and clasped their hands together as tightly as possible, then shifted to face the large crucifix up front.  Only the captain remained standing, though he found himself unable to move.

                The young man stood and maneuvered around the praying men to come face-to-face with the Captain.  The young woman stayed seated, smiling as she watched him, her head propped up on her hands.  "You'll only make things worse if kill my men."

                "I'm not going back to prison…or whatever they called what I was held in."

                "You'd rather kill?  You'd rather die?"

                "Much more the prior than the latter, if it means I can have peace."

                "And her?"

                "She'll outlive me by far."  The girl got a worried look on her face after hearing that and came up behind him, wrapping her arms around him.

                "Let's go," she said.

                "Okay," he said, putting his hand on hers.  "Do you still have that heart condition, Hank?"  The captain's eyes widened just as his left arm went numb.  Soon enough he was on the ground, leaning up against the side of a pew.  "As for you," he turned to the officers, "I hope you prayed, and asked for forgiveness, it was your last chance."  Each of them simultaneously grabbed his gun, placed it underneath his chin, and pulled the trigger, just enough to let one bullet fire.  The Captain screamed when he heard the gunfire.  "Nobody even threatens her, Hank, especially putting a gun to her head.  Tell anybody who decides to come after me to come after me alone.  Leave her out of this."

                Just as they turned, the door burst open again, this time pushed by telekinetic force.  A group of teens led by a man in a wheelchair entered the church.  They took a second to view their surroundings, a church with a choir still singing in full force, and people still watching that choir intently, despite the fact that a few were covered in blood, and their were thirty dead police officers on the floor.

                The two people they came looking for were standing in the middle of the purity and evil that swayed throughout the room.

                "Richard," Xavier uttered through his stupor, "do you honestly think this will grant you your freedom.  You will not be able to scare off the entire government."

                "Yes, I will," he simply answered.  Then, he turned, and began to walk toward the back exit.  The girl turned to follow him.

                "Rogue," Kitty cried, "you can't believe in all of this!  You're letting him murder all of these people."  Richard stopped to wait for Rogue to come to him.

                "Ah'm sorry, guys," Rogue answered, "ya can't understand us, or our situation."  She then turned and locked arms with Richard.

                "Get them," Scott said as they began to walk away.  However, the patrons of the church mindlessly stood up and started walking toward the front door, causing a river of humanity to block their way.  Jean immediately took to the air, but soon fell to the ground.  Kurt found that he had lost his ability to teleport, and Kitty found the people every bit as solid as they should have been.  By the time they all realized they no longer had control of their powers, they were surrounded by proverbial zombies, tightly packed together.  Scott was the first to exit the side of the crowd and head around, the others soon following.

                By the time they had reached the back exit, the officers guarding the door were trying to regain consciousness.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

*One Year Ago*

                "Monthly Evaluation number 36: psychological profile of prisoner number 15-0365-5287: Richard Prenson," the speaker bellowed.

                "Let's try to get this one done quickly," Dr. Hendrich said.  His first day of being head psychologist was the first day that Richard came to the Washington Psychological Center.  Richard made sure that it was a night that he would never forget.  That had been more than four years before this psychological profile, Richard's fiftieth.

                "Well, let's start," Hendrich sat across from the foreboding figure, and turned on a tape recorder.  He also made absolutely sure that the machine he'd received from a mysterious benefactor was fully operational.  The device made sure that the boy couldn't do whatever it was he was capable of doing.  That first night, Hendrich didn't believe in it, but afterward, it was the most important piece of equipment in the building.  In fact, it was the first thing that the backup generator supported in case of a power outage.  "Do you know why you're in here?"  Dr. Hendrich started the interrogation.

                "Because I diagnosed insane after defending myself in a fight."

                "And who was is that attacked you?"

                "Three people.  A man that seemed like a lion, a woman that could change her, and a man that could effect magnetic fields."

                "Did anyone else see these attackers."

                "No."

                "Do you know why they attacked you?"

                "Yes.  I refused to join them."

                "Does this not sound unbelievable to you?"

                "I saw it with my own eyes."

                "Do you have any special abilities?"

                "Yes, I do."

                "And just what are they?"

                "I'm not sure."

                "Have you ever used your abilities?"

                "I used them to survive the fight."

                "Is that the only time?"

                "… yes."

                "Do you consider yourself sane?"

                "Yes."

                Hendrich smirked, "I think that's all we need."  He turned off the tape recorder.  "Why is it that you never say anything different?  I know you've had the guards tell you about the "Mutant Crisis" in this country."

                "Because I know you never let anyone else hear those tapes."

                "Very astute."

                "It can't last forever, though," Richard said, "you can't keep me a secret; especially after I break out."

                "No need speaking of things that will never happen."  The doctor turned the tape recorder back on.  "Is there anything special that you'd like to add."

                "Yes."

                "And that is?"

                "This facility's backup generator has been broken for a week."  Dr. Hendrich looked confused for a split second that the lights were still on.

______________________________________________________________________________________

*Three Months Ago*

                The large figure leaned against the wall for support, leaving a trail of blood along the walls.  Barely able to hold his own weight under his broken leg, he made as much noise as possible trying to get the attention of one of those young pukes he was forced to work with.  The man that attacked him knew that his body healed head injuries first, and made sure there were plenty of them.  Adding to that, he made sure that his healing abilities weren't operating fully, at about a quarter of the speed he was used to.

                It turned out Sabretooth was late to a meeting held on the other side of the base, making his walk all the longer.  He reached the meeting stumbling through a shadowed entrance.

                "Where have you…" Magneto noticed Victor's battered body.  "Who did this?"

                "I did," Sabretooth said through gritted teeth.

                Magneto assumed he meant a copy of himself.  "Mystique?"

                "No," Sabretooth said angrily, "me."

                "I assume there's a reason then."

                Sabretooth stared down Magneto as he approached.  "Prenson."

                Magneto straightened out his body.  "I would have expected your will to be too strong for him."

                "Like yours five years ago?"  Magneto restrained himself from attacking the injured man.  "It doesn't matter anyway.  He's stronger."

                "Did he say anything?"

                "No."

                Magneto turned away from Sabretooth, deciding to give him time to heal.  "We gotta new target?"  Gambit decided to follow Magneto.

                "I don't want any of you going near him."

                "Dat'll be hard, we've never seen him."

                "Have him tell you," Magneto nodded to Creed, "and leave me to myself."

_____________________________________________________________________________________

                The house was abandoned.  Only the unnecessary furniture and accessories were left in the moonlit house.  She had been expecting him, but she didn't want to face him.  Richard understood this reaction, but still considered it cowardly.

                "You were in a hurry," he said, bending down to pick up a picture.  It was a picture of Rogue when she was about twelve, around the last time he saw her.  Irene didn't keep pictures around for herself, she kept them for Mystique.  Richard found it surprising that Rogue never figured that out.

                He popped open the back of the frame and placed the picture in his coat pocket.  There was no need to be in the house: Irene wasn't coming back.  Before actually exited the house, he passed by a bookshelf that only had one book in it, on the top.  Richard recognized it as the book of notes she'd written about her sleeping visions.  She had four at the time he was arrested.  Richard decided to hang onto the diary as well.

                He looked at the last page, surprisingly, it was written on the current date.  The entry was not prose, as the rest of the predictions were, but simply a letter, addressed to him.  

                "Richard,

                I am truly sorry that there was no attempt made to rescue you.  The choices were to leave you in and try to escape Magneto's clutches ourselves, using our abilities, or to let you out and have no control over your actions.  The choice was Mystique's, and she was willing to let you out until the battle.  She was on the receiving end of your powers and it frightened her, far more than any telepathy or kinesis.  We do consider ourselves on the side of right, and we could not have rightly let your power loose among the populace, mutant or otherwise.

                Any difference of opinion we had would most assuredly end in losing any personality that we possessed, and you would rule over us.  We could not allow a young teenager to have control over us, and we had so few options.  The institution was the only one that had you living this long.  All other possibilities lead to your demise.

                I know this letter finds you a more mature and trustworthy person than the curt, violent teen that we were forced to put into isolation.  This maturity it what I hope will help you make the right decision.  Do not seek out Mystique or myself with vengeance on your mind.  Mystique is missing and nobody knows where I have moved today.

                Lastly, do not approach Rogue.  She has too much on her mind right now.  She does not need to find out that you are actually alive.

                Irene"

                "Well," Richard said to himself, "looks like I actually owe you a favor, Irene.  I'm going to have to thank you."  Richard again began to walk out of the house, but stopped to ponder something.  He thought of someone else who needed to read the letter.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

                Of all the things that Rogue hated, which was a hefty list, she had to hate school the most.  Not only was she completely disinterested with everything they taught, citing that Bayville High didn't offer the classed she wanted to take, but all teachers seemed to abandon the thought that school could contain any sort of entertainment at the turn of the century.  Now, the only entertainment Rogue had at school was seeing some of the people she didn't like falling over or hurting themselves in some way.  Despite the large number of people she didn't like, they didn't hurt themselves very often, at least not while she was around.

                "Hey, Rogue," Jean called, "need a ride?"

                "No," she called back, "I hafta go buy a book."

                "See you later, then," Jean yelled over the roar of the engine.  Once the van turned around onto the street, she saw that Scott was in the passenger seat, thoroughly enjoying Jean's company.  Rogue scowled, despite the fact that she had taken a liking to Jean.  She just didn't like anything Jean liked.  Once they got around to doing nothing together, they got along quite well.

                Rogue took the long way to the book store, just to waste time thinking.  Mostly about how there were only two weeks left in the school year, and her psychology teacher finished his curriculum early, so he decided to throw in a little extra, costing every student fifteen dollars.  Of course, it was Xavier who actually paid for the book, but Rogue was still pissed off that she had two more weeks of work instead of watching pointless videos, which gave her time to think.

                Rogue took the long way to the bookstore she always went to when she had assigned spending.  Everyone else always rushed off to Barnes & Noble first, despite the fact the vice-principal's brother owned the shop and knew all about the school's assigned books.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

                The elderly bookstore owner watched the suspicious-looking man who looked around twenty years old enter the store.  Only someone who had many years of experience behind a register could spot the real psychos, despite how they were dressed.  The young man was around twenty years old, short brown hair and green eyes covered by wire-rimmed glasses.  He was wearing a blue polo shirt and khaki pants.  This was the typical dress and look of many of his customers.  There were two differences that set him apart.  The way he carried himself made him seem way too assured of himself, which meant he was sure of his physical abilities, making him prone to physically attacking people.  He also could have been too assured in his mental abilities; and judging by the way he was dressed, it was probably directly correlated to his money, and a man with a lot of money entering a small, privately owned business was never good for the owner of the small business.  The second thing that set him apart was the way that his eyes darted around the room, making it seem like he was either paranoid, or correct in assuming that trouble was coming for him; neither option bode very well for anyone in the store.

                He quickly found the aisle he was looking for and searched aimlessly.  The clerk kept a close eye on him.  Despite his irregularities, he didn't seem dangerous, just prepared.  He picked out three books and brought them to the counter.

                "How are you doing today, sir," Walter said politely.

                "Best I've been in years," Richard replied placing his books on the counter, all of them about the human brain in some way.  Walter smiled at the man and told him the price.  Richard handed over his money and began looking at the man pictures that Walter hung up on the wall.  All of the pictures were of his regular customers, all hung with their permission.  Walter could tell that a specific picture caught his eye.  "What's that girl's name," he asked, pointing to the picture of Walter's most memorable customer, both because of her attitude and her look.

                "Oh," Walter turned make sure what picture he was pointing at, "her?  She's a real quiet girl comes in every now and then.  Won't give me her real name.  Calls herself Rogue."  He turned back to Richard, who was still staring at the picture.  "Why?  You know her?"

                "I gave her that nickname."

                Walter saw someone approaching the door, and instinctively turned to see who it was.  It just so happened to be the one the two men had been talking about.  "Well, look who-"  The young man was gone.  Just as Walter thought, another weird one coming through his store.  He probably didn't even know the girl.

                "Hey, Walter," Rogue called.

                "Hello, Rogue," he called back.  She went to the same section that her admirer had, and picked out the book that Walter knew she was coming for.  "You expecting any friends coming into town for you?"

                "No," Rogue grew suspicious.  "Why do you ask?"

                "Some guy was in here a second ago, said he knew you."

                "Did he say his name?"

                "Nope," Walter replied.  "Probably just a crazy guy.  You'd be surprised at how many there are out there."

                "Well, ah'll keep my eyes open," Rogue smiled and took her book.  Walter was one of the few people she would smile at, and definitely the only person with a camera she'd smiled at in over five years, as her picture on the wall attested to.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

                Rogue arrived back at the mansion at about six o'clock.  She had wondered around aimlessly for a while after buying the book, reading the intro to the book, and thinking about that guy Walter talked about, and then just thinking about nothing.

                She entered her room, ready to go to bed early, despite the fact that it was Friday.  "Oh, Rogue," Kitty said as she passed by the laundry room.  "Could you give me you comforter and sheets to wash?"  So Rogue wasn't going to bed as soon as she thought.

                "Yeah," Rogue submitted.

                "Oh, and there's, like, a letter for you on your bed."

                "From who?"

                "The envelope doesn't say."  Just a minute later, Rogue was on her way to Xavier's office.  "Hey!  What about your sheets?"

                Xavier felt Rogue coming.  She entered without knocking, and looked confused and angry.  The mental projections Xavier caught confirmed this.  "What is it, Rogue?"

                "I need to talk to Irene, now."

***

                I started writing fanfic again after a ten-month break.  At first I just continued work on my other fic: X-Men: The Savage.  A story is in the comicverse.  Then I had this concept hacking away at the back of my brain, so I started writing what you just read and hopefully enjoyed.  After finishing this chapter, I finished the third chapter of X-Men: The Savage, and hopefully I'll be able to repost the second chapter without any errors this time.

                I would like to know which of these you would like me to continue work on first.  Please read both before choosing.  I threw in a bit from the middle of where I'm taking this story at the beginning just to put this story on equal footing with my other.  Thank you for the input.


	2. Vengeance

Voices' Warning: Vengeance

                Charles felt a little guilty for lying to Rogue.  He had informed her that Irene, her former foster mother, was very difficult to locate, due to her human brainwave patterns.  The truth was that he found her almost instantly, due her very abnormal, very mutant, brainwaves; he waited two weeks.  The majority if her brainwaves were for the most part just like any other mutants, but some seemed to enter he mind from an unknown source, as opposed to exiting.  Charles reluctantly decided that he should talk to Ms. Adler directly.  Rogue was still reeling from all of her victims taking over her mind, and didn't need the added stress of finding out that her foster mother had been a mutant, and was apparently hiding from her, since she was nowhere near Caldecott County.  In fact, she was on the outskirts of Tucson.

                Due to her distance from the rest of the city, Charles had no problem landing the helicopter he'd taken to see her right in her backyard, about sixty feet from where she was sitting: on her back porch, not paying any attention the scorching heat or the sounds of the helicopter that landed just in front of her.  Charles maneuvered his wheelchair down the ramp of the helicopter and through the sand to Irene's back porch.

                "Welcome, Professor Xavier.  I've been expecting you.  Please, come inside."

                Charles had been suspecting that the wave patterns that seemed to be drawn to her mind gave her some sense of what was going on in the world around her, or more likely, what was going to happen, citing that he couldn't track the source.  He'd only encountered such a phenomenon around an old enemy of his that was also a powerful telepath.  He would sometimes be able to tell what was to happen just a few minutes into the future, and every time, Charles sensed the same waves that he detected entering Ms. Adler's mind at almost all times.  Charles himself had also predicted a few things in his sleep, mostly about what conditions he would wake up under.

                "'Charles' will be fine, Ms. Adler," Xavier said once she had closed the back door.  She went to a chair, avoiding all obstacles.  She couldn't have lived in the house too long, yet she had quickly memorized where everything was in her new house.

                "'Irene', please."  She began to pet the cat that had jumped onto her lap.  "I assume you have already deduced just what I'm able to do."

                "Well, you do seem quite prepared for my arrival," Charles noticed the cup of tea that was waiting for him on a nightstand, where the chair that was normally there had been removed to accommodate Charles' wheelchair.

                "It has been a while since I've entertained.  I want to make sure you're as comfortable as possible."

                "Well, you've succeeded, and I thank you."  Charles moved into the spot where the chair used to be and placed down his tea.  "I assume that since you knew of my visit, you also knew why I was coming."

                "You've come to talk about Richard," she said calmly.

                "I would normally never question the way that someone raises their child, and I can certainly understand why you didn't tell her what happened to him, but if he is willing and able to sneak into my mansion to deliver this letter," he pulled the document out of his coat pocket, "and with what happened to him in that asylum, _and_ your sudden disappearance once he shows up; he has become somewhat of a concern of mine."

                "Trust me," Irene said, "he'll be far more than that soon enough."

                "What do you mean by that?"

                She momentarily looked as though she was regretful she had said that.  She proceeded to tell him about the way that Mystique had found them, what she'd seen him do, power-wise, and how he'd found Rogue.  It turned out that Richard had the ability to detect mutants and identify their powers, though he didn't know what the power was until he'd been told or shown by a mutant with that power.  After he confirmed what signals a specific ability gave off, he could identify other mutants with a similar power.  Charles remembered the five-year period where Magneto seemed to be testing hundreds of recruits, nearly all of which quit after being "tested" against Scott or Jean, or especially Wolverine, when he was around.  It was after those tests stopped that Charles decided it would again be safe enough to start teaching inexperienced mutants.

                After the mutant identification, came his sensitivity to thoughts.  Richard wouldn't ever let Irene be alone with Rogue until he was sure that she had grown fond of the girl.  At first, Mystique had ordered the girl removed the house, as she was nothing but a burden on them.  After Irene started to think of Rogue as more of a daughter, he would leave Rogue to her, as he left for days on end, not telling anyone where he was going.  Being alone allowed for Irene to predict the girl's future.  Once Irene had predicted Rogue's unique manifestation, it was determined that she would have to get used to covering herself.  They started this as soon as possible, because Irene was having trouble predicting when this power would emerge.  Richard didn't strenuously object, though he said it was unnecessary.

                "I always bothered me," she continued, "why I could never predict _when_ her power would emerge, but I knew it had at least a little to do with him."

                "How did you know that?"

                "Because I could never predict anything that he was involved with in some way, and I certainly couldn't predict anything about his future.  I've had my ability since I was thirteen, and I never saw anything from the five-year period he lived with us.  I never predicted that after his third year, he'd find Rogue, and I certainly never saw that mental institution.  And I didn't find out until yesterday how he connected to Rogue's power."

                "What happened yesterday?"

                "Richard paid me a visit," she said more casually than she told the story.  "He has gotten much better at finding mutants since he went in."

                "You said he used to have to be within two hundred feet of somebody.  How did he sense you from Bayville?"

                "I told you about the device that Mystique gave the institution.  It was a prototype stolen from a government lab, and the reason it wasn't the final incarnation was its method of stopping powers.  The final model, which I'm glad to say there are very few of, negates mutant powers as they are trying to be used.  It's like the mutant part of their brain is in a coma.  But the model they put on Richard restrained that section.  When he tried to use his powers, it was like his mind was trying to lift a weight.  It's no different than if you told Ms. Grey to lift an immovable object every minute of every day for four years.  Imagine what she'd be able to do today."

                "And about Rogue?"

                "The reason I couldn't when her ability would emerge was because he stifled them.  He knew long before I did what her power would be, and how little control she'd have over it, so he simply… _hid_ it from her own mind.  It was only a matter of time before she _found_ them.  That's why her power emerged at that dance, not during some hectic moment."  She folded her hands in her lap.  "With the way she reacted, I think he was right."

                "Right about what?"

                "He should have been there.  His method of mind-control can go far deeper than most telepaths can imagine: miles into the unconscious.  He could have helped her gain control in ways either of us can't even speculate."  She paused.  "He told me that my very first prediction was one of him.  _But, the instant he walked up to Raven that day, and I recognized him, he immediately erased those memories.  As I understand it: it took you several days and much strain to pull Ms. Grey back into sanity, and erase all of those memories of her friend dying."  He tone almost seemed smart, as if she'd been hiding something before.  She seemed like an entirely different person.  "In fact, you nearly had a heart attack while trying to cap her powers."_

                "Who are you?"

                "Oh, I'm still very much myself.  I'm just not in control."  She was moving her head and hands as though she could see: looking then reaching.  "Do you know where he got that information?"  Charles shook his head.  "From you."  Charles' look of shock seemed to amuse her.  "Why do you think it took you so long to decide to come here?  While he was holding you off, he walked around every inch of your mansion, he got to know every detail of your security system, and he had extremely detailed conversations with all of your children, Mr. McCoy, Wolverine, Storm, and even you.  Everyone except for Rogue.  None of you will remember them, of course.  You're quite lucky Jean won't remember their conversation; it was most interesting.  Certain things were brought up that you may not like her knowing.  Don't be surprised, though, if she seems to be able to pick up thoughts a bit more clearly from now on."

                "Why is he doing this?"

                "He has his reasons."

                "You can stop referring to yourself in the third person.  I know you're controlling her."

                "You don't understand, Charles.  He's not controlling me right now; he's controlling me from yesterday.  He scripted this conversation, and I'm just acting it out.  He knew how you'd react, what you'd ask, and what you'd be thinking about during this conversation.  You're acting of your own free will, but your free will is limited to the way your mind works.  He knows how you think inside and out, all of your kids, too.  After the last two weeks of conversations, he won't need to directly control them.  He can simply make something happen, and they'll give the responses that they'd naturally make."  She leaned forward.  "During this whole conversation, all I've been doing was providing a planned external stimulus.  And you've been giving the answers he knew you would"

                "What I've been saying has been planned?"

                "Even that question just now."  Charles, for the first time in a while, was panicked, and any response he'd give was to be expected.  "Goodbye," Irene said.  Richard was right: that's what Charles had been planning to do: leave.  He needed to get back to his students.  Charles quickly got back to his helicopter and took off.

______________________________________________________________________________________

                "Kitty," Scott called.  She looked up from her laptop.

                "Yeah?"

                "What was the name of that guy Rogue's all worked up about?"

                "Richard… something.  Lasted name started with a P.  Why?"

                "I think he's on the news."

                Kitty closed her laptop and walked into the room where Scott was facing the large TV.  "More than eight months ago, Richard Prenson, now considered a mutant, escaped from the Washington Psychological Center, and medical prison, which is known for its very strict policies and frequent power shortages.  Rumors say that Preson was abused by Dr. Hendrich, who frequently denied him food, exercise, and any kind of entertainment.  During one of the blackouts, Prenson viscously murdered Dr. Hendrich: mutilating him beyond recognition.

                "Prenson's escape was kept confidential until recently, when he attacked Viktor Creed, a federal fugitive, here in Bayville.  Investigation reveals that Prenson claimed he was defending himself against a man fitting Creed's description and two other mutants before being arrested.  Five years ago, descriptions of mutant powers sounded fantastic enough for Prenson to be considered legally insane.

                "Prenson is believed to still be in Bayville.  He is said to be Armed and Inhumanly Dangerous: a status first used for Viktor Creed, but this is what a security camera caught when the two met."  The video was short, showing Richard being thrown into an alley by Sabretooth.  After that, Richard simply stared him down for a few seconds, after which, Sabretooth started to ruthlessly claw at himself, focusing most of his self-mutilation on his neck and above.  Once he tired himself out, Viktor just leaned up against a wall, bleeding.  Richard had been down at the bottom of the screen, waiting.  Once Sabretooth stopped, Richard picked up a large pipe, and stalked toward the defeated animal.  The screen went to static just as the swing started.  The camera switched back to the anchor.  "The security guard went out to investigate, thus making him unable to replace the tape on the outdated security system.  Once again: citizens are told to avoid this man," a close up of Richard overtook the screen, "at all costs.  If you see him, it is recommended to get a good distance away before informing authorities.  After the break…" Scott turned off the television.

                Several of the other team members had walked in during the report, others during the footage.  Several gasps erupted, mainly from the previously benign form of Richard starting a violent swing at Sabretooth's head with a pipe right before the footage ended.  Those that had fought against Creed found it worrying that someone who could do that was just walking around the city.  Quickly surveying the room, Scott found that Rogue was not among them.

                "Does anybody know where Rogue is?"

                Kitty answered, "She's been upstairs since school got out, going through that package she got."

                "What?"

                "You didn't know?  She got a huge trunk in the mail.  Got here like a minute after the Professor left.  She's kicked me out of the room."

                "Who was it from?"

                "Didn't say."

                "Then why did you accept it?"  Scott nearly screamed.  "We can't take risks like that!"

                "It's just a bunch of her stuff from her childhood," Kitty said, annoyed at the implication of her being that irresponsible.  "I phased through it.  It was all books and pictures and some jewelry.  Nothing to be afraid of."  Scott was, of course, not going to stop worrying.

______________________________________________________________________________________

                The rest of the team was thinking that Rogue was sad or in some sort of shock since she found out that Richard was in fact alive.  Any feelings of aggression towards Irene was wiped away by the fact that the person who had been like a brother to her for three years was alive and well.  In truth, she was ecstatic.  The thing that made her seem detached and distant was the constant screaming of three of the people she'd absorbed.  Magneto, Mystique, and Sabretooth had been yelling at her, warning her against ever coming in contact with Richard.  She'd learned much about Irene and Mystique's relationship since the shape-shifter had started yapping about Richard in Rogue's head.  Though all of Mystique's memories had been available when Rogue absorbed her, most of what she'd been reliving had been about her life as Ritsy.

                It took all of Rogue's willpower to keep them in check, even leaving her somewhat of a shell during her graduation.  Scott and Jean had enough enthusiasm about the event to make up for her mental absence, though.  However, another thing was dominating her mind at her graduation.  There were times when she could swear that she could feel him.  During her graduation, an image flashed in her head.  He was watching her from the stands.  She tried looking for him, but found only an empty spot.  She wasn't able to tell whether it was real or not until it happened again.  While she was sleeping, she had a dream of him talking to Kurt, then Scott, then a very long talk with Jean: all of them seemed to be running on autopilot, like they were talking zombies.  Rogue couldn't hear what they were saying.  Eventually, though, while he was talking to Scott, Richard seemed to look right at the spot that Rogue was dreaming she was in, and he left.  Rogue figured it was just a random dream until Scott complained about his window being open all night and the almost ninety degree night air filled his room.

                Ever since Richard had been taken, Rogue felt a heaviness on the back of her head.  She assumed it was simply the pang of regret or sadness that everyone felt when they lost a family member or loved-one.  It wasn't until after that dream that she associated it with Richard's presence, or more specifically, his proximity.  However, she never felt right when that feeling went away, usually when she went to Los Angeles.  Rogue was sure the reason she had felt so at home in Bayville was the fact that it was far closer to the institute that Richard was being held in.  It was just a day before she'd received that letter meant for him that the feeling weighing on her increased significantly.  During the dream and her graduation the feeling seemed to spread throughout her entire mind, and she saw him.

                She held the necklace that had been lying at the bottom of the trunk.  It had been lying on her chest when she awoke the day she found out he _died.  The day before, she barely had that feeling in the back of her head, and it made her feel unsettled, even while lying comfortably in bed.  All of the day, though, she was feeling him approach.  It wasn't until much later in the night that she saw him in her mind again, driving by the mansion.  Though he was shortly too far away to see._

______________________________________________________________________________________

                "Hey, Wanda," Pietro called out.  He was far more confident when approaching her now that her memories had been reworked, but he didn't know how good of a job Mastermind did.  He was still afraid that if he asserted himself too much, she'd break through.  "You know that it's still unsafe to go out?  I mean, after that newscast, that Richard guy will probably want to speed up whatever he's planning on."

                Wanda had taken surprisingly well to Pietro as the authority figure in the house.  "I'm just going out to buy some shampoo.  Shouldn't be more than fifteen minutes."

                "Well… just be sure to hurry up," he said, his voice a bit shaky.

                "Sure."  She grabbed the keys to Lance's jeep, which had pretty much become a public automobile, and walked out the door.  He was there, just as he had been described, standing less than six feet from the front door.  Despite all of her instincts screaming at her, she didn't run back in the door.  Her instincts here suddenly silenced.

                "As I understand it," he began pacing, "your mind has recently been ravaged by a haggard old freak.  Been having trouble holding yourself in check recently?  Just wanting to leap across the room, beat your brother down?  Not even bothering with powers?"  She nodded.  She didn't feel like she was in control of her response, even though it was truthful.  "Having dreams?  You're being dragged through a gigantic doorway, screaming at two figures you can't look straight at?"

                 She felt in control again.  She felt her doubts about him returning.  But, as he spoke; as he asked her those questions, she felt pieces of her mind returning to her.  "Yeah, almost every night."

                The stranger laughed, rolling his head.  "Amateur," she could barely hear him whisper.  "Do you remember me, Wanda?"

                "No."

                "We were in adjacent cells for nearly a year.  We saw each other in the Rec. Yard, until I was banned.  Do you remember the prisons?  The institutions?  Being dragged around on a collar?"  Wanda put her hand on her head.  Oily memories filled her head, and she was losing connection with her legs.  She fell back against the door.  "Tell me, Wanda.  Do you remember?"

                "No," she answered hoarsely.

                "Do you remember why you hate you father?"

                "No," she answered more sternly, feeling an unneeded anger she couldn't place, but it felt somewhat familiar.

                The stranger smiled broadly.  "Do you want to?"

______________________________________________________________________________________

                "Rogue," Kitty's voice echoed in her ear.  "Rogue!"

                "What," Rogue answered groggily.

                "Get dressed.  There's something happening at the mall!"

                "Kitty, Ah don't care about a sale."  Rogue put her head back on her pillow.

                "I'm not talking about a sale.  The Brotherhood is facing off against Magneto's new guys."

                Rogue shot up, noticing that it was well before dawn.  She didn't question Kitty.  However perky the younger girl was, she would be making such a joke at such an early hour.  She quickly got into her uniform and met the rest of the team down at the hanger.  Xavier was there to show them off.  All three of the instructors were heading out with them.

                The jet seemed strangely unnecessary, as they were out of the hanger a whole thirty seconds before in the parking lot of the mall where they'd first battle Wanda Maximoff.  "Be careful," Scott said.  "It seems a bit too quiet in there."

                Wolverine was the first to approach the door.  "Someone's talkin' in there.  Ain't none of Magneto's kids, or the Brotherhood."  Just as he finished saying that, an earth-shattering scream, unmistakably the voice of Magneto.  The frame of the building shook.

                "Everyone back," Scott yelled.  They waited until the scream subsided and the building steadied.

                "We should get in there before that happens again," Storm said.  Jean took no time in breaking the locks holding the doors closed.  At the end of the main corridor of the mall, there were two very visible silhouettes.  Magneto was trying unsuccessfully to stand, ending up pitifully leaning backwards, resting on his knees.  A tall man circling him.  Slowly, the standing man turned his head to a spot on the wall; Magneto's eyes followed.  Metal twisted and screamed until it finally, violently snapped.  Scott put his fingers to his visor ready to stop the beam fragment from hitting the second man, but hesitated when he saw that the beam was heading for Magneto himself.  It slammed into the old man, pushing him back, crashing him against the wall.  Magneto screamed again, parts of the building beginning to break.  Once the screaming stopped, they were finally able to clearly see Magneto in the light.  The man that they were taught to fear above anyone else was doubled over, holding his stomach where the beam hit.  He had four sharpened spikes run through his shoulders and his calves.

                Richard got a good look at the beleaguered form of Magneto, and began to walk off, making a sideways glance at the X-Men.  "Hey," Scott called out.  When Richard didn't acknowledge him, Scott launched a low-power shot to knock him off his feet.  Richard didn't falter or flinch, and Scott uncharacteristically missed by a wide margin.  They raced to the end of the corridor, but he had disappeared by the time they reached the unconscious form of Magneto.

                Shortly thereafter, Brotherhood members emerged from the shadows nursing wounds.  The Blob was carrying Wanda, who hadn't awoke.  The X-Men noticed that none of Magneto's new recruits were showing up.

                "Where are the others," Scott shortly asked Lance.

                "They're still unconscious back there, Pietro too" Lance calmly said back, not bothering to take the verbal offensive against Summers.

                "Yeah," Fred said slowly, "and nothin's waking 'em up either.  I tripped over the metal guy, and he didn't do nothin'."

                "How did all of this start," Storm inquired.

                Lance answered.  "Wanda was going out, but just as soon as she left, she came right back in, only she'd gone crazy.  She took all of us hostage, except Pietro, he managed to get away, and then she brought us here.  She made us wait here for about two hours until Magneto showed up with his new goons.  He didn't wait for an explanation, 'just told them to attack us, so we fought back.  Wanda did most of the fighting, though.  I was taking on the Cajun until this guy showed up, and we just passed out."

                "Yeah, that's what happened to me, too," Toad chimed in.

                "Me too," Fred said.

                Beast stood, revealing Magneto's body to the Brotherhood, who took a step back.  "We need to get Magneto to the mansion."  He looked at Wanda, "Her too.  I daresay I can provide better medical treatment than any of you."  After exchanging a few looks, they relinquished her to the care of Beast.  "She will be free to return when I have diagnosed her physically and mentally stable.  At least as stable as she can get," he added quietly.

                Far away, they heard the police sirens.  "You best get home," Wolverine said to the Brotherhood.

                "I don't think it wise for them to be out while that other young man is out there."

                "Don't worry," Rogue suddenly said, "He's on his way out of the city."  They looked at her questioningly.  "He's going after Mystique now."

______________________________________________________________________________________

                Beta-Reader slot open.  I hate seeing my stories where words are missing letters and the spell-check doesn't catch it.


	3. Speeches

Voices' Warnings: Speeches

                Wanda awoke at nine the next morning.  She easily slept through the bustling noises, as Beast ordered people around the infirmary while he tried to stop Magneto's bleeding, external and internal.  There were no chemicals to make sleep deeper, and Xavier said there was no telepathic reason.  Irene had told him that Richard's methods of mind control was very subtle, but she was being controlled by Richard at the time, so the validity of the statement was suspect.  She happened to awake in the one minute that Beast left the infirmary to get some fruit to eat.

                Wanda briefly wandered where she was, but quit worrying once she looked to her right.  When she had fought her father the night before, all she had been able to do was hurl him against a wall before she passed out.  What she saw before her was a broken body, not possibly created by a crash against a wall.  There were bandages on each shoulder and calf, each soaked with blood.  His abdomen was wrapped thoroughly, and several incisions looked to have been recently sewn shut.  Timidly, she walked toward him.  She again had the pure hatred for him that she once had, but she also had not forgotten the way it had been while her memory had been limited.  She reigned herself to simply looking over his scars.

                She soon found her vision blocked by a wall of blue fur.  "I must ask you to return to your bed."

                "I'm fine.  I was knocked out, just like all of his lackeys."

                "Very well, then I must escort you to Charles' office."

                Wanda sighed.  "Fine."  She had never enjoyed her meetings with Xavier, but all of their past conversations happened while she was locked up and dragged around with a collar.  Beast gave her the clothes that she had brought in wearing, and gave privacy to put them on.  Wanda wondered why they had gone through all of the medical procedures.  They knew she wasn't physically injured, and it wasn't as if they had anyone they had to report to or lie to about why she was there.

                She entered the office slowly, taking in the elegance that Xavier was able to afford.  He was there, of course, not attempting to cover up his anticipation of this conversation.  "Sit, please," he motioned to a chair across from his desk.  "I would like to ask you about what happened last night."

                "I figured," she said, not showing too much courtesy to the man that had numerously recommended that she stay in the institutions.

                "Could you tell me why you decided to suddenly attack last night?  We've been under the impression you no longer held any ill will toward your father."

                "The only reason I wasn't trying to kill my father recently was because they had some guy change all of my memories of him."

                "And, last night?"

                "Last night those memories came back."

                Charles leaned forward in his wheelchair.  "Why did they come back?"

                "I had help," she answered questioningly.  She could see that the line of questioning wasn't going to be focused on her.

                "May I ask who from?"

                "Richard: the guy from the news.  But I bet you already knew that."

                "Wanda, I'm worried for you and your teammates.  Young Richard showed a blatant disregard for all of your lives by having you draw Magneto in, then in his savage attack on Magneto himself.  All I'm asking is your cooperation, and I may be able to remove Richard as a danger."

                "You won't be able to do that."

                "What makes you say that?"

                "I spent some time at the institute he was in.  We were in adjacent cells.  There was a pretty big… window to the next cell.  He told me all about some of the things he wanted to do once he got out, though he never got into very many specifics.  He always talked about three people he was going to get for getting him locked away.  I never knew we had a common enemy.  Even when he wasn't talking to me, I could hear him plotting what he was going to do once he got out.  He never shut up either.  He only slept about twice a week.  I'm actually glad I was there for only six months.  I'm sure you heard about the little "going-away" party he threw for me."

                "I must not have."

                Wanda looked surprised.  "Well, that thing that they had around his arm: it didn't work too well all of the time.  That thing couldn't block out too many power at once, so he overloaded it.  That was Hell.  All of the prisoners turned against each other and had a massive riot.  He got some of the guards to unlock the doors.  Most of those people needed 24-hour surveillance.  They went around killing and eating each other for four hours until they all just stopped and went back to their cells.  Well, the ones that survived.  When the National Guard arrived, the only one out of his cell was Richard, just lying on a lunch table, laughing.  I was transferred two hours later."

                Charles looked down: straining.  "I do remember that.  Why haven't I thought of this before?"

                "Because he didn't want you to.  Guards weren't allowed down the hall we were in, probably because Richard made the Chief of Security make it a rule.  There were other reasons, though.  They didn't want them near me because of my violence, and any guard they tried to make walk by Richard's cell would sooner quit.  After the employees protested enough, they made it a rule to not go near us."

                "Why?"

                "Most of them died.  They'd take two trips past his cell then go home early and shoot themselves.  The ones that were stopped ended up in their own padded rooms.  You didn't think about the _party _because… 'you're a slave to your mind, and your mind is a slave to him.'  At least, that's what he said to me once; he was really cocky.  That's why he was never transferred; no one would go near him except Dr. Hendrich."

                "Why not Dr. Hen-"

                "Wait," she interrupted him.  She looked down in thought, and then began laughing.

                "What?"

                "What did you plan to ask me when I came in here?"

                Charles took a moment to think about this.  "I meant to ask you why Richard chose you, and what you knew about him."

                "I meant to tell you to let me out of here and then storm off."  She laughed again.  "I can't believe I let him do that to me again."

                "He's controlling us," Charles stated.

                "Yeah.  He likes to be subtle, though, so he changed the way we'd react to something, most likely seeing each other, in a way that seems logical to us… and he just did it again.  I would never use those terms."

                "He made that somewhat obvious, though.  Your diction and speech patterns changed."

                "Yeah.  When I know to watch out for what I say, it's all him saying it, just through me."

                "How is he doing this, what are his powers?"  Charles had to be careful of what sentences he was going to speak, and he had to concentrate to push the words out through an inner-drive that urged him to follow a script.

                "He can read minds, but not like you.  He can't search through memories or anything.  He can only tell what someone is thinking right then.  But he can force you to think of something through his mind control.  That's what he's been using to make us say what he wants.  As far as he told me, there's really no limit to what he can make you do or think."

                "Are you saying that, or is it him?"

                "Me.  As far as I can tell."

                "What about his ability to sense mutant abilities?"

                "He said he couldn't use that while that band-thing was on.  Since that power was constantly active, the band focused on it more than the other two powers."

                Charles thought to himself for a moment.  "That's all of the information I need right now.  Thank you."

                "Can I go home now?"

                "I don't think that would be a good idea."

                Wanda's attitude came back.  "I answered all of your questions.  You're not going to keep me here by force."

                "I wasn't planning on it.  You do have to realize, however, that every one of the Brotherhood is potentially a pawn for Richard, especially you."

                "And you think you can protect me?  I know he's already been strolling around this house.  He'll find me and use me if he wants to."

                Charles straightened his back.  "It is true that he has caught me somewhat unaware.  He has ambushed me with his covert actions.  But I will recover, and when I do, there will be no safer place from the mind of Richard Prenson."  She didn't look convinced.  "You may need reminding of where you are," he said as politely as possible.  "We are not powerless.  With you helping us against him, this whole situation will be over much more quickly."

                Wanda looked at him for a moment.  "Fine, but only for a month.  If he's not under control by then, I'm out of here."

                "Very well.  I'll have Ororo set up a room."

______________________________________________________________________________________

                Mystique, for the first time in a while, was too shocked to move.  She'd hoped that Richard had been killed somehow in the last nine months.  It was a stupid thing to hope for, but it was better than picturing how he was now, lying on her sofa, half-asleep.  "Sit down," he forced through a yawn.

                "I'd rather not."

                "Too bad."  Her legs lead her over to the nearest chair and sat her down.

                "Killing me won't achieve anything."

                "I haven't killed anyone, not yet."

                "I heard about what you did to Magneto.  Are you telling me he survived that?"

                "He is currently unconscious in Xavier's infirmary."

                "Why didn't you kill him?  He deserves it.  Not for what he did to you.  But-" she quickly stopped talking, but it wasn't of her volition.

                "Don't ramble."  He stood up, as did she, again due to her legs.  "Why should I have killed them?  I'm just getting my payback.  I'm not trying to bring justice to the world, just to me.  Magneto didn't kill me, neither did Creed.  All they did was rough me up a bit, and I returned the favor.  Speaking of which, you got a couple of good shots in there as well."  His fist crashed into her gut, sending her flying back into the chair.  "But it's really what you did afterward that had a big impact on me.  I wouldn't be half of what I am today if it weren't for those four years without my powers."  Mystique briefly felt as though her body was being separated from her mind.  She no longer felt linked with her skin or inner workings.  She felt as she did back when she was ten, before her powers manifested and she was just a blue-skinned freak who refused to go to school.  She knew what he had done, but refused to believe it.  She tried to simply change the color of her hair, and was unable to do it.

                "Is any of this actually making you _feel better," she said through clenched teeth._

                "Yes, actually.  And I'm sure you'll feel better, too, once this is all over."

                "What do you mean _once this is all over_?  You've got your revenge on the three of us.  When are you going to be done?"

                "Okay, I lied.  I'm not just getting revenge for myself."

                "Who else, then?"

                "Rogue, of course.  You imprisoned the only person that could help her control her powers, then proceeded to use her on that damned Brotherhood of yours."  He kneeled down in front of her chair.  "How many people did you have to impersonate to push the adoption through?"  Mystique's eyes widened.  "I'm impressed that you and Irene were able to keep it a secret from me for so long.  You actually had me believing that you two didn't want her around.  You're the only person that has tricked me since my powers activated.  Don't think it will ever happen again."  He stood back up.  "I can't understand why you did it, though.  Why did you erase her memory?  Wouldn't she have been a lot more useful if she trusted you instead of not knowing you?  Wouldn't it have been easier to just put her in Irene's care with Mastermind's fuzzy memories in place instead of having it that I _found her a back alley?  And I especially don't understand how putting her in that white-trash hellhole for a month was better than keeping her mind the way it should be."_

                "I was forced to do all of that," Mystique said.  "Do you honestly think I wanted to?"

                "I can feel that you did.  I can't understand why, though, because your mind is a mess.  The next time you see that dirty little illusionist, make sure he doesn't get anywhere near you.  He does sloppy work, and he's done nearly irreparable damage to you.  Make sure that you tell Magneto that the next time he cons you into following him."  He turned to walk out of the house.  "Have fun.  I hope you'll be able to pluck up the courage to leave the house every now and then."

______________________________________________________________________________________

                "I can't believe the Professor didn't tell us about this before," Jean said, lugging a huge bedspread around while carrying several lamps and nightstands with her mind.  "First he lets Wanda stay here, and now he just tells that we're getting a new student _and_ a new instructor _today."_

                "Well," Scott said, carrying his own sets of furniture, "Apparently, this happened quite suddenly."

                "I guess so.  This was set up awfully quick."

                "I think I heard that Mr. Cassidy and the Professor used to know each other.  So the Professor probably agreed a lot quicker."

                "What about the short notice?"

                "I think he was using Cerebro all morning."

                "Looking for what?"

                "I don't know."  Scott squeezed the blankets and maneuvered his arms around so he could see his watch.  "Crap.  Their plane arrives in ten minutes."

                "Let's just hurry."

                Less than ten minutes after that, Kurt was letting two new residents into the mansion.  Scott and Jean finished setting up the rooms just in time to be at the top of the stairs while Xavier shook hands with Mr. Cassidy.

______________________________________________________________________________________

                Charles wheeled over to refill Sean's glass of Bourbon.  "I must impress upon you how little I approve of your timing.  I do not know how Mr. Prenson behaved while staying at your manor, but he has shown little in the way of cooperation since he arrived here."

                "I know.  He was a little hard to get along with at first.  He's just someone you gotta trust."

                "He has done nothing to earn it among us.  What did he do to gain yours?"

                "He saved m'daughter from about fifty soldiers."

                "What," Charles said in shock.  "Why were there soldiers after Theresa?"

                "They weren't workin fer any government.  Some organization was tryin t'blackmail me into workin fer em by holding Theresa hostage.  By the time I got there, they were takin' each other out."

                "Are you entirely sure that's what the soldiers were doing?"

                "Aye, very sure.  It doesn't matter what I think, though, 'cause yer not gonna trust him anyway."

                "I don't mean to seem paranoid, but I can't imagine why he's resorted to the methods he's using while working toward good intentions."

                "I don't know either, but like I said, y'gotta trust him.  He's not evil, Charles.  He's a sinister little bastard, and he'll scare ye t'death every so often, but he's not evil."

                "You understand why I can't trust the words of someone who was exposed to him.  I'm also having difficulty imagining any other reason he would be in Ireland."

                "I can understand that."

                "You honestly trust him?"

                "That I do.  With my daughter's life."

                "He's very dangerous," Charles said to himself, mostly.

                "Everyone under this roof is dangerous, Charles, if properly motivated."  With that, Sean decided he'd been awake long enough and went up to his new room.

______________________________________________________________________________________

                The house that Mystique had been staying in, and probably would only leave at night now, was in L.A., so she could be as far as possible from Richard.  It didn't help her that Richard could just walk through any airport, wearing or carrying anything, without incident, and get on a plane without a ticket.  He had gone straight from what he did to Magneto to the airport.  He was almost late for his flight, since Magneto was so lax about falling into Richard's trap for him.

                While driving back to the airport, though, Richard felt a presence that he hadn't felt in years.  It was different, though.  For instance, the last time Richard had spoken to Dr. Hendrich, he wasn't a mutant.  Very close to him was another mutant, who was screaming against the will of her own body, which Richard could tell was not under her control.  Richard focused on the signal, he was less than a mile from its origin.

______________________________________________________________________________________

                "Jubilation, what are you looking at," asked Mr. Lee,  noticing his daughter had been catatonic at the window sine he'd last passed by the room.  She didn't give a verbal response.  Instead, her hand smoothly rotated around, her fingers pointed at her father.  "What are you…" he didn't care to continue and dodge a blast of energy at the same time.

                "What's going on in" Mrs. Lee had to hit the floor as well.  Dodging the shot caused it to hit some curtains which immediately caught flame.  Lee crawled to the end of the kitchen behind a sofa and down the hall, all the while remaining hidden from her daughter.  Her husband was already on the phone, waving for his wife to join him, huddled on the floor as he gave the police his address.

                Jubilee was still in the living room, waiting for her next order.  It was soon to come.  The door slowly creaked open, and a gangly man, almost too tall to go under the door without ducking, walked into the house.  He looked down the hall, where Jubilee's parents were still crouching with the phone dangling between them.  He then stalked his away over to Jubilee.  "Kill them," he whispered in her ear.  Without hesitating, she followed the order.  The black-haired stranger chuckled to himself.  "This will work excellently," he spoke to the zombie-like girl.  "We best be getting out of here," he said, noticing the quickly spreading fire.  Already, supports from the ceiling were collapsing into the house.  Outside, the sound of screeching tires rang throughout the neighborhood.  "That must be the police," Hendrich said, "Let's add to the publicity.  Follow me," he said, heading to the front door.  Instead of the police car he had expected, Hendrich found a car with a "Hertz" license-plate.  He took a few paces to see if anyone was in the vehicle, but found no one.  "Destroy it," he said, turning to his slave.

                Looming over her, with one hand around her waist, was the last person Hendrich wanted to see.  "Wake up," he whispered to her.  She shook her head, trying to get her normal senses back.

                "Mom!  Dad!" she cried, running back to the house.  Richard grabbed her arm before she got too far.

                "No," he simply said to her.  She tearfully watched as her house fell apart from the flames, but she didn't venture into it.  "Since you were expecting a police officer, Dr. Hendrich, I'll try to accommodate.  Get up against the wall."  Hendrich ran to the burning house and threw his back against the nearest wall.  The heat coming from the house emanated from the wall, causing the doctor's skin to boil.  "I'll say that this is a clear violation of our agreement, doctor."  Richard looked into the window, spying the two burning human figures.  He noticed a fallen beam and pulled off a two-foot long splinter.  He pulled the splinter out of the house, but placed the point back into the fire.  "We agreed that you wouldn't engage in any anti-mutant activity.  I didn't expect the extremes to which you would go in order to break that agreement, actually becoming a mutant yourself, and a hypnotic one at that.  Were you really that jealous of me?"

                "I just thought I'd fight fire with fire."

                "Speaking of which," Richard pulled  the smoking tip of the splinter out of the house.  "You shouldn't have chosen to be a hypnotist, they have a very obvious weakness."  Hendrich's eyes preyed themselves open in horror.  "That's right, doctor, now don't blink."

                The good doctor's screams could be heard over a mile away.

______________________________________________________________________________________

The chapters will be getting longer soon, don't worry.

Please Review, they're what's keeping me writing.


	4. Runaways

Voices' Warnings:  Runaways

                "Are you coming or not?"  Jubilee was on her knees, looking at the seemingly unreal image of her house falling in on itself, blurred by her tears.  Every instinct was telling her rush to her death in the hopes that she could somehow rescue them from the inferno.  Every attempt to stand failed, and not because she lacked the strength, or the constitution.  Her body simply wasn't following orders.  "You can choose to come with me or not, but you're not going into that building."  She suddenly hated the stranger that kept calling out to her for the past few minutes.

                "That's not just a building," she screamed at him.  "That's my house!"

                "And it's burning down," he shouted back.  The sirens she'd been hearing finally manifested themselves as lights at the end of the road.  Two police cruisers whipped around the corner, followed by a fire truck, looking dangerously close to tipping over as it made the turn.  Upon stopping, they immediately sprang into action.   The police were quickly setting up borders, but Jubilee suddenly noticed that nobody had come out of their houses.  There were no silhouettes staring out windows at the spectacle.  The emergency workers completely ignored Jubilee and the man leaning up against his car.  "You have nothing here!  And since you took so long in deciding, those cameras in the squad cars have seen you."  It didn't matter to Jubilee.  She hadn't done anything.  He pushed off the passenger side and stalked slowly toward her.  "_Your body killed you parents.  _Your body_ set your house on fire.  **_You_ are a mutant.  That is all that's going to matter to **__them," he nodded toward the police officers.  "And the police and military aren't nearly as fast as some _Special Interest_ groups that would just love to kill a mutant suspected of murder."  He was aggravated by the young girl's somewhat arrogant thoughts on the matter.  "I am making a guarantee: you will not make it out there for a day… not without me."_

                She stared at him for a moment, then made her decision.  He did nothing to stop her fist from colliding with his jaw, but something told her he could have.  Without another word, she took off down the street.

                Richard lifted his watch, and pressed two of the small buttons along the side.  Dropping his hands back down to his sides, he sighed.  He hated teens in distress.  They were too hard to predict, no matter how familiar their mental patterns were.  The girl was nice person, though, and when he next saw her, she'd feel sorry for hitting him.  It wasn't much of a hit, but the symbol on her ring would be on his jaw for a few days.  He traced his finger over where the ring had made contact; no blood.  Not much of a hit at all.

                Sighing again, his eyes dropped to Dr. Hendrich, still lying far too close to the fire.  It took Richard a second to decide whether or not to let to the workers see him, and ultimately decided he'd like to have another talk with the good doctor at some point.

                "Hey!  What the hell," one of the firemen shouted.  "How long has this guy been here?!"  The emergency workers quickly scrambled to get him into an ambulance.  The vehicle tore off, narrowly missing Richard's newly acquired car.  Finding nothing left to do, Richard drove off, careful not to lose the signal he came for.

______________________________________________________________________________________

                Jubilee hadn't been training nearly enough on her own.  She barely made it into the city before she had to stop to take a rest.   She took a few steps into an alley and leaned against the wall.  She slid down, tucking her knees up to her chest.  The thought of what the wall was doing to her shirt crossed her mind, but that led her to think of the rest of her clothes, in her house, with her parents.  A short sob escaped her throat.  She immediately pursed her lips.  This was not the place.  She had to find a place to stay.  All of her money was in her purse… on top of her dresser, if either still existed.  Again she stifled a cry.  She had to think logically.

                There were family friends that would readily take her in, but they were either back in the neighborhood or too far to walk to in one night.  Plus, those would be the first place she would be looked for, and she didn't want anyone to get hurt because of her, not anyone else.  Unfortunately, she didn't have anyone to be responsible for or to, except herself.  All she had to do was survive, regardless the cost.  She briefly wondered why she'd turned down the offer to go with that man who had offered his help.  It might have been the complete lack of sympathy, or the fact that the only thing that had taken her mind off of her parents since the fire was the sight of him burning a man's eyes out with a flaming stick.  She thought briefly of the other man, and winced as his face flashed across her mind, still ordering her to kill her parents.  The order was powerful enough to make her believe that her parents were still alive, but she only had hatred for them.  She quickly shook the image away.  Suddenly, she didn't feel so negative toward the man that had burned that bastard's eyes out.

                "Hello?" she called into the alley, deciding she'd been still a little too long.  Hearing no answer, she sparked up her hand, illuminating the dark alley.  Several cats feasting out of a trash can lunged away from the new light source, knocking over the old metal can.  Jubilee quickly tried to steady it, not wanting to attract any more attention.

                She wondered how many people had heard about what had happened at her house.  It had only been about thirty minutes.  It wouldn't be long before they found out that three people lived in that house, and start searching for her.  The recordings from those surveillance cameras couldn't have been checked too often.  Just in case, though, she had to get somewhere safe, private.  Xavier.  The thought raced through her mind, quickly followed by what felt like fire at her temples, and another flash of that horrible face.  Suddenly, the very thought of contacting Charles for help make her feel like vomiting.

                "Great," she spoke to herself.  She fought back her rising stomach after seriously considering calling Charles.  The nausea was quickly followed by a dizziness that threatened to take her off of her feet.  She couldn't imagine was actually calling Charles would do to her.  Whoever that tall freak was, he had been thorough.  He couldn't stop Charles from coming to find her, though.  He would manage to quickly find out what happened and that she was missing, and come find her.  He'd probably be able to fix whatever that guy did to her.  How she'd react to actually seeing him was yet to be seen.  All Jubilee could hope was that it didn't kill her.

                "Focus," she told herself.  She had to think straight.  Having her thoughts bound about the hypothetical wasn't helping her.  She had to find any form of shelter, and then food.  It was fairly obvious that she was only going to meet resistance, it just mattered when.  She wasn't going to stumble upon any unexpected help.

                "Ow," shouted a female voice.  Jubilee stumbled forward, catching herself before her face dunked into something that didn't smell like water.  She pushed herself standing and looked down on another girl about her same age.  "How cliché," Jubilee said to herself.

                The other girl seemed to shift her concentration to Jubilee from her bleeding hand, which Jubilee assumed she stepped on.  "What are you doing here," she said in a thick Asian accent.

                "What are you doing here?  You're obviously not from around here."

                "I asked you first," she shot back, sounding a bit nervous.

                "It's none of your business," Jubilee said, mostly because she had no inclination to talk about the night's earlier events.

                "Then why should I tell you," she spat back.

                Jubilee sighed, "Never mind, I was just passing through anyway."

                "Good."

                Before Jubilee completed her first step, she had to place her foot back where it came from.  A blinding spot light had been placed over both of the girls.

                "Well, what a coincidence.  Two runaways, described as sixteen-year-old Asian girls disappear on opposite side of the city, and meet up in the middle, and we happen to be here."

                "Just when I thought I wouldn't have to do any more paperwork tonight."

                The spotlights disappeared, and the girls needed a moment to readjust to the normal light-level.  Neither needed to see much to know it was police officers who had pinned them down; they both had pictures that apparently had their pictures on them.  Jubilee thought briefly about running away, but that would lead to a necessity of attacking the two officers, and she didn't need that on top of anything they thought she might have done.  She would have to sneak away from them later.

                "Look what you did," she other girl snipped at her.

                "What I did," Jubilee asked incredulously.

                "They drove by three times and didn't see me until you came."

                "It's not my fault you didn't keep your hand out of the way of traffic."

                "You should look where you're going."

                "It's pitch black!"

                "You call _this_ pitch black," she waved her arms around.  Jubilee suddenly remembered the police officers, and how she and the other girl must have looked, arguing with each other in hurried voices.

                "Put your hands behind your backs, ladies."  Jubilee slowly lowered her hands behind her back and put her wrists close together.  The other girl seemed to be having an inward battle, as if she was just considering running away.  As the officer approached, though, she snapped her hands behind her back.  Both girls were read their rights and placed in the back of the cruiser.  Jubilee got pushed into the passenger side.  She managed to push her arms underneath her legs and in front of her to make her drive a bit more comfortable.  The officer in the driver seat noticed this, but decided that she wasn't going to be too much of a danger.

                Jubilee was actually entertained for the first couple minutes of the drive by watching the girl next to her trying to do what Jubilee had done with her hands.  At one point, she was completely upside-down.

                "Would you sit still back there," the officer in the passenger seat called.  The girl, entertainingly enough, managed to right herself again, he hands still pinned behind her back.

                "Are you a contortionist, or something," she asked a smirking Jubilee.

                "Gymnast," Jubilee answered.

                It wasn't long before the girl had again begun to squirm in her seat.  Her eyes were darting around.  She had the same look that she had when she was cuffed.  It wasn't long before she seemed to make a decision, though.  Her eyes were glued to the back of the passenger officer's head.  It was shortly thereafter that Officer Grooman apparently decided he'd been in the car a little too long.  He opened his door and jumped out.

                "What are you doing," the driver screamed at his partner, but was unable to stop the jump.  Once Grooman was gone, the girl's eyes locked onto the driver's head.  He slammed on the gas and they were soon careening down a luckily barren road.

                "Uh," Jubilee had pinned herself against the door in an instinct to get as far away from her as possible.  She soon found her bearings.  "I assume your doing this, but… do you know where you're going."

                "Mm, no."

                "Well… turn into that parking garage up ahead.  And slow down," she added with urgency.  Either the girl didn't have complete control or she didn't know how to drive, because the driving officer had a hard time figuring out how to put his foot to the brake.  When he found it, he hit is way too hard and they were soon going about fifteen miles per hour.  They reached the entrance of the parking lot a whole minute later, despite the short distance to it.  "Go up to a level without any people in it."

                They were getting enough attention just being a police car with two captives and a door that was hanging open going through a parking garage with just a few people on each level.  They found the fifth level completely abandoned.  Without bothering to pull into an actual parking space, the girl had the car stopped.  The officer clumsily got out and opened the other girl's door.  He then got back into the car and sat motionless, while the girl got away.

                "Hey," Jubilee called out.  She shuffled her way out of the driver-side door.  "Fine," Jubilee said.  Her right index finger glowed with a multi-colored ball.  She lowered it down to the cuff surrounding her left wrist.  It made small explosion and the metal split, allowing Jubilee to remove the cuffs.  The other girl turned just in time to see her remove the right portion of her bindings.  This brought the stranger running to her.

                "Take mine off," she said impatiently, apparently thinking Jubilee hadn't gotten the meaning of the other girl shuffling backwards in front of her.

                "Why?  You were just going to leave me in that car, if you were a bit smarter."

                "But, I am the reason you're here."

                "Exactly."

                "No, here, instead of down at the police station."

                "Yeah, now we're fugitives instead of runaways!"

                The girl gave Jubilee an impatient look.  "Look, we both need a place to hide.  What are you going to do?  Blow stuff up until you get one?"

                Jubilee took a moment to process this.  "Fine."  She separated the girl from her handcuffs.

                "Ow," she said again after the second half came off.

                "So, where are we going to hide?"

                "This is connected to a hotel."

                "There are security cameras in that hotel.  How are we going to break in?"

                "We won't have to."  The girl walked off toward the elevator in the far wall.

______________________________________________________________________________________

                Soon enough, much to Jubilee's surprise, the girl had secured them a room.  They didn't pay or put their names in, or anything like that, so that cut off any attempt at room service.  All of the running had made Jubilee a little hungry and extremely thirsty.

                "I can get a cart brought in here," the girl said, "if one walks by."

                "Not much of a chance at eleven thirty."  The girl sat by the door anyway, looking out the peep-hole every time a noise was made.  "What's your name," Jubilee asked, once the television had lost its distraction appeal.

                She, for the first time, turned away from the door.  "Shan," quickly said.  "What's yours?"

                "Jubilation, but everyone calls me Jubilee."  Shan just nodded and turned back to the door.  Jubilee sighed.  "So, how did you end up in L.A.?"

                Shan looked at the carpet, and after a brief silence, finally started to explain.  "My family and I were moving here.  The boat we were on was attacked.  When we landed, I got scared, and used my powers to run away."

                "Why did you get scared?"

                "My… my father was killed in the attack.  I didn't find out until we landed.  That was just four hours ago."

                "Oh," was all Jubilee could say.

                "What about you?"

                Now Jubilee cursed herself for being impatient for a response from Shan.  It took her a minute stifle her emotions down so she could talk.  "Someone killed my parents," she half-lied, "then set my house on fire.  I knew they'd think I did it," she sparked up her hand as evidence, "so I just took off."

                They were both understandably silent for quite a while after that.  It wasn't until midnight struck that Shan jolted enough to knock over the chair she was sitting in.  "Someone's just gone by, with food."  Jubilee heard the cart pass.  Once it had passed by, Shan opened the door a crack.  The cart stopped, and then made sounds Jubilee could only assume meant the cart was turning around.  The door was opened wider to alloy the cart in.  Jubilee took guidance of the cart from the zombie-like woman, and looked over the food as Shan followed her slave out into the hall.

                "Where are _you_ going," she asked.

                "I'm making sure she gets on the elevator before she wonders what happened to her."  Without waiting for a response, Shan took off down the hall.  She didn't quite remember where the elevator was.  While she could see what her victim saw, it was too blurry and confusing unless she had her eyes closed and was sitting or lying down.  Shan pushed the down arrow herself, and waited with her subject until the bell dinged and the doors slid open.  Much to her surprise, there was somebody else on.  He stood in the back corner, staring blankly at the far wall, a strange smirk on his face.  Shan stood behind the room service woman, suddenly nervous, as though she'd been caught.

                "Getting on," the man asked, turning to the younger girl.

                "No," she finally said, shaking her head, and finally had the woman in front of her get on the elevator.  Shan walked away awkwardly, and checked to make sure she wasn't being followed after she heard the doors close.

                Reentering the room, Shan saw that Jubilee had uncovered a meal that was obviously meant for a vacationing family: two lobsters and a pizza.  Jubilee was almost scared at the ferocity with which Shan dug into the food.  She managed to down every bit of edible material on one of the lobsters and half of the pizza within five minutes.

                "Hungry?"

                "I haven't eaten since before I left home."

                "Oh," Jubilee uttered, suddenly feeling very guilty for having taken even one bite of her lobster.  Shan was understandably too absorbed in the food to notice Jubilee's discomfort.  It wasn't until she reached for the last slice of Pizza did Shan realize that there was another.  She held up the piece questionably.  "Take it," Jubilee said.

                "We can't stay here too long.  It won't take them long to find out that we stayed in the hotel that cop woke up near.  We should sleep a couple of hours before we take off, though."  Shan agreed, and Jubilee set the alarm clock in between the two beds for three o'clock.

______________________________________________________________________________________

                Charles apprehensively went closer to the fire that was still raging.  Nearby, a police officer was giving a statement to a reporter.  "We are currently unaware of the cause of the fire."

                "Is it true that a young mutant lived here and has not yet been found?"

                "The entire house has not yet been searched and the recovered bodies have not been identified.  Now, if you will please escort yourselves back behind the tape, we have work to do."  It was then that the officer noticed Charles, and walked over to him.  "You must be Mr. Xavier."

                "Yes, please call me Charles."

                "You got here in a hurry."

                "One of my students may or may not be in that inferno.  I felt the need for urgency."

                "Of course."  The officer sighed, "I have to ask you about her powers.  It's fairly common knowledge what your students…"

                "Jubilation's abilities are well under her own control.  She could not have started this by accident, and she wouldn't start it on purpose."  The officer looked unconvinced, but did not have a chance to respond.  Two men in uniform were jogging up to him.

                "Sir, a couple of the guys from the fire department say that this place was rigged to burn: a spark could have set off the whole house.  There are materials spread throughout every room to make sure the fire spread within a minute.  Now, that's all in most of the house, but the living room and kitchen are filled with chemical containers, making sure that this fire burns long and hot.  Given the way that the materials are laid out, the boys say that this was either done in a hurry or by amateurs, but amateurs don't typically have access to those materials."

                "Are you saying this was a hit?"

                "A potential one, sir.  There's a remote detonator in there, but it was never hit.  This started accidentally."

                "All right, go see if they find anything else."  The officer hurried back towards the mostly collapsed house.  "What do you have?"

                "About thirty minutes ago, Officers Grooman and Penchel arrested two girls, one they identified as the girl missing from this scene, and the other was the girl that skirted the Coast Guard earlier.  They were found arguing with each other in an alley."

                "So, we have the Lee girl in custody?"

                "No.  While taking them back to the station, Grooman blacked out.  He woke up fifteen minutes later lying in a gutter.  Penchel blacked out a little bit after that; woke up in a hotel parking garage: the girls were gone."

                "What about the hotel?"

                "Nothing unusual there: no break-ins, at least.  We have a couple of guys searching the boiler room and basements, and they have the concierges calling every room making sure they haven't taken anyone in."

                "Anything else?"

                "Not right now."

                "Keep your eyes open.  I assume that answered most of your questions," he said to Charles.

                "Yes, thank you."  He handed the officer a card.  "Please give me a call if she's found."

                "Sure.  You'll probably be called in to answer a few questions when she's caught, anyway."

                "That shouldn't be a problem."  Charles was escorted back behind the tape.  He immediately approached Logan.  "I can feel someone here that has less than admirable intentions for Jubilee and the other girl she has met up with."

                "What kind of intentions?"

                "He had a recurring stream of… indirect hatred for Jubilee."

                "Could he be the guy that started the fire?"

                "No.  His hatred is because of her being a mutant.  He didn't react too well when he saw me here, either.  I believe that he is working for the man that sent that…Sentinel after you."  Wolverine growled at that mention.  "What did you find out?"

                "I couldn't get too close to look very well, and the fire wiped out most of the scents, but there was definitely someone else here, maybe a couple of people.  There's a pair of footprints leading from the backyard to the front.  The emergency guys have stomped all over the place since then.  Jubilee ran off that way," he pointed down the street, "and there's another set of footprints that isn't from a fireman or police officer, but it could have been a neighbor.  Got pretty close to the fire, though: right up against the building."

                "Very well.  I want you to track down Jubilee.  I believe that it's more than just the police that is after her now.  I will have Scott contact you if he finds her first."  Wolverine huffed at the suggestion.

                "She has a pretty good head start, and that trip in the police car I heard about could make it a bit harder."

                "Can you find her?"

                "Of course I can, I'm just saying it probably won't be before sunrise."

                "Logan, whoever that man over there represents is particularly well-funded.  If we do not find Jubilee first, she may be the next lab-rat in a sentinel test."

                Wolverine didn't bother to answer before taking off down the street.  Shortly thereafter, Charles had an unpleasant notion.  "_Logan__," Charles mentally called out, "__I'm going to _Europe___.  Call me if I'm needed."_

                "Are we going somewhere," Hank asked once Charles had returned to the hidden blackbird.

                "I'm going to need to ask you stay here, and call the team to this location.  I'm afraid that there are several forces acting against Jubilee."

                "But why, Charles?" Hank asked as he was getting off the plane.

                "Because she was a student of mine.  I will return to Bayville as soon as possible."

                "Of course, Charles."  Hank took a step off of the plane, but stopped.  "Should I ask Sean to accompany the field team?  If Mr. Prenson was involved in this, as you believe, he may respond to a friendly face."

                "Yes, of course, if he so chooses."

                "I will see you soon, Charles."

______________________________________________________________________________________

                The background noise of Jubilee's dream followed her into the waking world.  The quick pounding filled the room.  In the adjacent bed, Shan shot out from under her covers as Jubilee just had.

                "I told you not to turn off the alarm!"

                "You fell back to sleep before I did."

                "No I didn't."

                "Your snores beg to differ."

                Shan prepared to say something on return, but the door had just been broken down in the main room of the suite.  Jubilee was the first to act.  She opted to blast out the glass of the sliding door instead of opening it.  Out side of every room was a deck, protruding about four feet from the outside wall.  They were on the fourth floor, meaning they would have to drop down to lower decks before jumping to the ground.

                "What are we going to do from here?  We can't run very well with broken ankles."  Jubilee just sighed before putting her legs over the rails of the deck.  "What are you doing," Shan asked.  The look on her face showed that she knew full well what Jubilee was about to attempt.  Jubilee leapt off the side of the deck, and grabbed the bottom slab of the adjacent deck.  She swung forward and let go, doing half of a back flip before landing her feet square on a third floor deck.  She turned around to see Shan looking at her with a dropped jaw.

                "Come on," Jubilee called."

                "I can't do _that_!"

                "Just jump out to me, and I'll catch your hands, and swing you down to that deck," she said, pointing to the one two floors down from where Shan was standing.

                "No," she shot back resolutely.  Her resolve didn't last long once the door to their room was kicked in.  Shan quickly vaulted over the railing and leaped at Jubilee.  Shan latched on to the other girl's wrists with enough force to cause Jubilee's bones to grind together.

                Shan landed less than gracefully on the desired platform.  Jubilee managed to land beside her just as their pursuers emerged from their room.  The two girls made sure they were completely covered from the soldiers' view.  "Who are they," Shan whispered, "they don't look like the police from last night?"

                "I'm not sure, but they're not the police.  They don't even look like the army."  Jubilee knew it was most likely a team from an anti-mutant organization.  The police had already been through the hotel, and they didn't have any way to detect mutants: very few people did.

                "Check all of the rooms in this area all the way down to the ground floor, and a few levels above.  They might have jumped or climbed."

                "Yes, sir."

                There was a long silence after the two girls heard that conversation.  "We need to get out of here," Jubilee said.

                "There might be someone still up there, waiting for us to run."

                "We'll stick close to walls.  Let's get to that alley by the parking garage."  Shan eventually agreed to the plan, and they began their slow endeavor around the outside of the hotel, as what seemed to be everybody driving a car looked at them questioningly.

                "Okay, so where do we go now," Shan asked once they got to the alley.

                "Uh… we need to get to a phone.  I need to get the Professor so he can get us out of here."

                "How soon would he be able to get here?"

                "In an emergency: really soon."

                "We need a place with a lot of people," Shan said after some thought.

                "That would also have a phone in it."  Jubilee knew a mall or any large store would suffice, but she wasn't sure if there were any nearby.

                "There was a that place across the street last night," Shan said, "from the parking garage.  That…that…" Jubilee hadn't seen the foreigner stumble over a word before, "club," she spat out triumphantly.

                "Yeah, well, it's a night club.  It probably won't be open for another ten hours."

                "Where else can," the sentence was cut short.  The alley was perfectly quiet except for their voices, which allowed them to hear the soft footsteps once the started to approach.  Someone was trying to sneak up on them.  Without thought, they sprinted off in the opposite direction.  Whoever was sneaking took three heavy steps and rounded a corner into the alley.

                "Kid, wait!" a voice familiar to Jubilee shouted.

                "Wolverine!" Jubilee skidded to a stop and turned around, Shan quickly did the same.  She sprinted toward him and wrapped her arms tightly around his middle.  Logan, however, seemed to be otherwise concerned.  After looking at the end of the alley for a couple of seconds, he turned back to the girls.  "The rest of the team is gonna be landing about ten blocks away.  Are you two up for more running?"

________________________________________________________________________

                _"Where'd you go last night?"_

_                "How do you always know when Ah go out?"_

_                "I have my ways.  Why do you keep going out?"_

_                "Ah don't know."_

_                "Well, where do you go?"_

_                "Ah don't know. . . Ah just wonder around."_

_                "Well, if you don't go anywhere, why do you go out?"_

_                "Ah guess. . . just to do somethin' ah'm not supposed to."_

_                The memory of Richard laughed.  "So, you just go rogue."_

_                "Ah don't know what that means."_

_                He just laughed again.  "My rogue."_

________________________________________________________________________

                "Rogue!  Wake up.  How can you fall asleep at a time like this?"  Kitty elbowed her 

                Two eyes faded out of Rogue's sight as she blinked heavily against sleep.  The sound of the jet engines slowly poured its way back into her ears.  "Ah don't know.  Ah've been really tired lately."

                "Are ye sure ye should be comin?" Sean asked the Rogue.  He was wary of the teenagers.  He had to keep reminding himself that they all had experience in these kinds of matters.  He couldn't help but see his daughter in all of them, though; mainly because she was in the back of the jet talking with Jean, constantly in his sight.  There was no way he was going to leave her back at the mansion with the other children not old or experienced enough to go on the mission, no matter how many defenses the mansion had.

                "Okay," Scott called from the pilot's seat, "we're coming up on the mall.  We're gong to have to do a low-level drop near the entrance.  Kurt's going to land on the roof and join us.  Everyone get ready to jump."

                Sean walked to the back of the jet, grabbing hold of his daughter's hand, and bringing her back up front.  "Listen.  If you see anybody you don't know coming toward this jet, you push this button right here," he led her finger to the emergency take-off button .  "Do ye understand?"

                "Uh-huh," Theresa answered, wanting to get back to her fun.

                "Be careful."

                "Uh-huh," she automatically answered over her shoulder.  Banshee got into the back of the line just as the side door of the jet opened.

______________________________________________________________________________________

                "Come on!"  The girls had been their own detriment to escape, only because they couldn't run as fast or as long as Wolverine.  "The jet's landing."  Based on Logan's uniform and speed, everyone in the mall was spreading apart to let them pass.  The few dozen men with guns chasing them didn't hurt, either.

                Directly in front of the three runners was a Radio Shack, meaning they'd have to choose between going left, into the food court, or right, into a Sears.  A couple of gunshots from the Sears made Logan dash left.  The three were quickly cut of from that avenue as well.  About fifteen well-armed men surrounded them from the left and right, while the soldiers that had been chasing them beforehand completed the semi-circle.

                "You're all out of places to go, mutants," said the leader of the soldiers chasing them.  Logan pushed Jubilee and Shan behind him.

                "We're going to have to surround them," Cyclops said, looking at the dire situation.  "Quick, before they shoot."  His teammates quickly snuck around in order to completely surround the soldiers that outnumbered them three to one.  He only hoped that the reason those particular people hated mutants was because they thought mutants were dangerous, which means they wouldn't want to fight any great number of them.

                "Listen, bub, you have no idea what kind of revenge you're going to get if you kill us."

                "I don't think you realize by just how much we outnumber you: all of you."  A red beam streaked across the food court and struck the hand of the soldier in charge.

                "Not as much as you think."  The rest of the X-Men emerged from their hiding spots, surrounding the soldiers.

                "You," the soldier said in disgust.  He quickly picked his gun back up before Scott's second beam hit the spot where the gun would have been.  "We're not the disorganized group of idiots you take us for."  Scott had noticed too late that all of the patrons of the mall had just stopped when the X-Men had emerged.  Scott looked down on the little old lady that was pointing a pistol at his head.  All of his teammates were in the same situation, each one of them had several guns all pointed straight at them.  "Do you honestly think that we went through all of this trouble just for those two girls?"  He paused, looking into Scott's hard but defeated face.  "On three, soldiers.  One. . . T-" the lead officer stopped.

                "What the hell is she doing," asked one of the under-cover soldiers.  Rogue was pinned behind several soldiers, just like the rest, but she was desperately trying for a grip on the wall.  Her breathing was panicked and her eyes were clenched shut.  Her spasms caused her foot to rise and fall, causing the whole building to shake.

                "Rogue!" Scott called out, and he attempted to get closer to her, but he was held in place.

                "No!" Rogue shrieked to nobody in particular.

______________________________________________________________________________________

                "_Rogue," Irene sturdily grabbed Rogue by the shoulder.  "You shouldn't be here."_

_                "What are they gonna do to Richard," Rogue yelled, fighting her foster mother._

_                "This doesn't concern us."_

"He's near," boomed a voice that Rogue didn't recognize.  "Leave!"

______________________________________________________________________________________

                "Just shoot her!" shouted the head soldier.  One of the men in uniform raised his gun level with Rogue's head.  He immediately fell to the ground, completely limp.

                "What did she do to him?" shouted a panicked soldier.  He had his eyes transfixed on his floored friend.  Anger flooded his face and he too leveled his weapon to Rogue's eyes.  He fell like the one before him.  Only one soldier remained for each X-Man after the majority shifted to pointing their guns straight at Rogue.  The tightly knit semicircle of soldiers closed in on the writhing girl.

                Suddenly, Rogue stopped, and her head snapped to the right, directly at Richard, who was standing just inside an entrance.  Richard locked eyes with Rogue, who slowly fell to the ground, asleep.  He began walking toward the crowd of soldiers, forcing them to part from his path.  Eventually he reached a spot just a few yards from Logan, who was still guarding the two girls.

                "Excuse me," he said to Logan, who threw his hands down and stepped to the side.  "Well, Ms. Lee.  I believe I told you that you would not live for more than a day without my help.  It has been," he hit a button on his watch, "ten hours, forty-seven minutes, and nineteen seconds.  And that's not counting the food I had sent to you last night.  Well, this is where you've gotten," he waved his hand around, pointing out the soldiers.  His attention shifted once his eyes landed on the lead soldier.  "Hank. . . honestly.  I didn't kill your family.  You've really got to give up this crusade.  It's not good for your health, and I don't mean that as a threat.  That heart's going to catch up with you some day."  Hank looked as though he would have like to respond, but he couldn't.  "And look at all of these people you've got working for you.  I don't know if you've done background checks, but these people are murderers," over a dozen soldiers fell flaccidly to the ground, "and rapists," another two dozen.  Richard turned to survey the remaining soldiers.  "I don't like any of them, really."  All of the soldiers were anticipating imminent death.  Nothing happened.  "But who am I to judge?"

                "You're a murderer!" shouted Hank.  "It doesn't matter if you did anything to my family or not.  All of the men and women I've seen you kill.  All of the others you pushed to insanity.  You deserve to die."

                Richard leaned in to whisper in Hank's ear.  Once he'd finished saying whatever he'd said, Hank fell backward, though still fully awake.  Richard just sneered at his shocked eyes.  It wasn't long after their leader fell that the rest of the soldiers scattered, leaving the X-Men alone with Richard, though the dead bodies and their unconscious leader remained.

                "What are you doing here?" Scott called to Richard, who was examining the fallen bodies around him.  His attention skipped over Scott and fell back on Rogue, who he slowly approached.  The X-Men tried to stop him, but found they were unwilling to do so.

                Rogue had again begun to breathe heavily.  It looked as though she was going to have a seizure.  The closer that Richard came, however, the slower that the breathing became.  The breaths came more deliberately, with more control, through bared teeth.  When Richard drew close enough, Rogue's head again snapped to look at him.  Richard took another step toward her, triggering a response.  In a flash, Rogue had removed her glove, spun around behind him and cupped her hand on his cheek.  Nearly five seconds passed before Richard moved his hand to cover hers.  Rogue fell to the floor screaming.  Richard disappeared shortly afterward.

                Speechless X-Men were left in his wake.  Rogue had stopped doing anything at all, but still had a pulse.  "Is that the Richard you remember?" Scott asked Sean.

                "Aye.  He gained my trust by killing some of these bastards seven months ago."

                "You condone this?"

                "A lot o' the ones ya see lying on the ground right now were coming after Theresa.  I'm not going to feel any pity for someone who would kill a little girl, especially my daughter."

                To soon for Scott to give a response, every bit of glass in the mall shattered, and a piercing scream ripped through the ears of anyone close enough to hear it, which was anyone within several miles.  The extended syllable portrayed just one message.  Theresa was in trouble.

                Her father was, of course, the first one to rush to her aid.  "Bobby, grab Rouge!" Scott ordered, since everyone was quickly forgetting her in order to get to the roof as fast as possible.

                The roof held a rather expected scene, at least for Scott.  Theresa was sitting peacefully on the entrance ramp of the X-Jet, while the soldiers that Richard had let go were lying dead; without a mark on them.

                "Theresa!"  Banshee ran to his daughter, ignoring the bodies he had to pass over to get there.  "I told you if there was any trouble to push the button."

                "They snuck up on me.  Then Richard told me to wait right here until you came back, because all of the bad guys were gone."

                "He was up here?" Scott asked.  Theresa nodded her head.  "Where'd he go?"  She shrugged her shoulders.

                "We gotta go kid," Wolverine said, his head turned toward a highway.  The sirens were quickly heard by the rest of the team.

                "He's right.  Let's get out of here."  He looked around, "Where are Bobby and Rogue?"

                "I'm coming."  Bobby was carrying Rogue, riding an ice ramp over to the Blackbird.

                The team piled into the jet.  After making sure Rouge's sleeping form was sufficiently strapped in, they took off.  No one spoke.  Despite the situation, Cyclops knew that not everyone would be so quiet at a time like this, especially the perfectly still Theresa.  They weren't behaving like themselves.  One sound from Richard was all he needed, and all he waited for.  Soon enough, Richard took an optic blast to the temple, and was lying unconscious in the back of the jet.


End file.
